


a hundred and five

by alcoholandregret



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, I would like to punch mikey in the face, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 09:29:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12230145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcoholandregret/pseuds/alcoholandregret
Summary: The point is, there are three things Nathan knows about forever.One, it’s a very, very long time. Two, to promise it to someone is naive, and to think a promise of it given to you can and will be kept is even more naive. Three, despite the first two, he thought he’d be spending it with Mikey.He thought.





	a hundred and five

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Marry Me by Jason Derulo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5ehB_Z01As)

Forever is a really long time, like, unimaginably long, but that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? Forever is longer than anyone could comprehend, because no one will ever live to see it through. Except maybe vampires.

The point is, there are three things Nathan knows about forever.

One, it’s a very,  _ very _ long time. Two, to promise it to someone is naive, and to think a promise of it given to you can and will be kept is even more naive. Three, despite the first two, he thought he’d be spending it with Mikey. 

He thought.

Honestly, he isn’t really sure why he should have believed it. See, he was never really positive about where they stand. Stood. Will stand. Every tense of the word. Past, present, future. Mikey has been both the only constant and the biggest question in his life for years.

What they have, or don’t have is a whirlwind of memories and promises and it makes his head spin.

“I’m not gay,” Mikey said, the lips that shaped the words having just separated from Nate’s. The sounds were formed with a breath that was the only one taken before Mikey once again closed the space between their mouths again. Once, twice, a third time.

“Me neither,” Nate said, lying through the teeth that clashed a little painfully with Mikey’s on the fifth.

That was two years ago, at least. It was before the draft, that’s all he really knew. Young(er) and dumb, Nate ignored the ache it left in his chest. It was the first time he kissed his best friend, but it wouldn’t be the last. Far from it, in fact.

“I love you,” Mikey said, running a hand through Nate’s hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “So much, Nater.”

“I love you too, Clouder.”

“I’m not losing you tomorrow. You’re coming with me.”

Nathan stared at the ceiling of the Buffalo hotel room. He stared at the painting of flowers on the wall behind the other bed - the one that neither of them so much as sat on the entire time they were there. He stared at Mikey, smiling softly at him like he wasn’t worried. He could paint it perfectly from memory - the irregular pattern of spots on the ceiling, the pinks and reds of the flowers, the soft glow the bedside lamp cast on Mikey’s face.

“You’re never losing me, New Jersey or not.”   


“It doesn’t matter, because I’m not leaving you behind.”

Nate kissed him.

Nate kissed him again the moment they could get away, both of them in their new Devils jerseys.

Halfway through the season, Mikey left Nate’s billet house, kissing him goodbye on his way out, leaving to pick up the girl he was taking to dinner that night.

Nate brushed his teeth seven times, but he couldn’t get the sour taste out of his mouth.

“I’m never going to find anyone like you,” Mikey whispered against his neck the night before what would be their final game in the OHL championships.

“I’m sure you will,” he said, the words forming rocks in his stomach.

“No,” he shook his head, his beard scratching against Nate’s collarbone. “You’re too important to me. Mine, y’know?”

_ No _ . He wanted to say.  _ I’m not. You won’t let me be. _

“Yeah. ‘M yours.”

“Love you,” Mikey said and bit slightly at his neck, just below where he’d surely feel how fast Nate’s pulse was.

“Love you too,” he gasped, his grip tightening around the hand folded with Mikey’s in his lap.

He felt his best friend laugh against his skin and it sent shivers down his spine.

The summer went on and Nate could tell everything was starting to get to Mikey, the pressure to make the team too great for him to handle sometimes. He never said it, but Nate could tell in the way he clung on harder than usual, the way the kisses seemed more desperate.

“You’re doing great, Mike,” he said before the first game of the preseason.

Mikey grabbed his face and kissed him until they were both breathless. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Finding out they were on separate teams on the day they had a split squad didn’t surprise him. The Devils seemed pretty hell-bent on keeping them apart - never putting them on the roster at the same time.

Getting a phone call after the game from Mikey wasn’t anything out of the ordinary - on the rare occasion they didn’t play together they always talked after the game. Always.

“One day,” he said in lieu of a greeting, “I’m gonna ask you to marry me.”

Nate pulled the phone away from his ear and made sure that this was, in fact, Mikey that he was talking to.

“Uh, Mike? Are you okay?”

“I just need to know.”

“Know what?”

“If I have you.”

“Yeah, Mikey,” he said, because of course he did. “You have me.”

“Yeah?”

“Always.”

“Okay, good.”

He hung up and Nate stared at his phone for a moment before he pocketed it, confused out of his mind.

Always isn’t, by name, a promise of forever, but it felt like it. He meant it, anyway.

He’s meant it every time he’s said it.

It took ten minutes for Hisch to approach him on the plane, tapping on his shoulder.

Nate slid over to the empty seat beside him so Nico could sit, pulling out one of his headphones.

“Is Clouder okay?”

“I guess so?” He said, though he was unsure himself. But he couldn’t understand why Nico would ask, unless Mikey just called him and also gave him a proposal rain check. The thought made his stomach turn. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Hallsy just said he left the game limping. I thought you knew.”

“He. He what?”

The concern that could only muster itself within him for Mikey-related things swirled around him and he felt like he was going to vomit.

“Sorry,” Hisch said, but Nate hardly heard him. He could only kind of see him get up and go back to wherever he was sitting.

_ Are you on your way home? _ He texted him, meaning their hotel room in New Jersey. Home is anywhere they’re together, he’s found. He knew he wasn’t the only one with that sentiment.

_ Yeah. _

_ I’ll see u there. I love you _

_ love you too babe _

Nate stuffed his phone into the pocket of his hoodie - or is it Mikey’s? He didn’t even know at that point - and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

For two years he’s managed to deal with this, _ whatever _ the fuck it is he has with Mikey. For longer than that, if he’s to be completely honest. And, despite what he knows about like, living a healthy life and shit, he was prepared to deal with it for a very, very long time if that’s what it took. Forever, even.

Treading so carefully around this for so long had been far from easy - he’d only tried to talk to Mikey about it once, but there’s no point. There’s never been any point.

They’re not dating. They’ve never been dating.  _ I’m not gay. _

He knew it wasn’t real from the start. Still, it feels it.

He knew it wasn’t real from the start. Still, Mikey wants to marry him, apparently.

Still, he’d say yes.

Mikey is hurt, he doesn’t know how bad yet, but he’s  _ hurt _ . Any injury, no matter how minor, could affect his making the team. It’s another rung in the ladder he has to climb breaking underneath him and Nate can tell he’s tired of catching himself - tired of climbing only to fall. 

Finally entering the hotel room to see Mikey sitting on Nathan’s bed with his ankle wrapped and propped up made Nate’s heart heavy. Wrapped, though - wrapped is good. This shouldn’t be too bad. Just a minor bump in the road.

It isn’t even a bump in his own road, but he felt it as though it was. He feels every bump, pothole, hill, turn - _ everything  _ in Mikey’s road. It isn’t his, but he’s there, in the car, being dragged willingly on a journey that he doesn’t have any real part in.

Nate slid into the space beside him, shifting to tuck him under his arm and holding onto him tightly. Mikey sighed and let his head fall back, pressing his forehead against Nate’s jaw line.

“I was serious.”

“Mikey-”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re never going to lose me,” he promised against his better judgment like always, rubbing circles on Mikey’s shoulder. “I will always be here for you.”

“I can’t- I can’t make the team like this.”

To that? There’s nothing Nathan can say.

“I love you. So much, Mikey.”

“I love you too, ‘n I need you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Twenty minutes later, he gets the call.

He’s cut. Not that he didn’t expect it, and sure, he’s sad, but not like,  _ crushed _ . The problem - which, in the grand scheme of things, is not a problem at all - lies in how he was cut. This year, he’s not going back to the Steelheads. No, he’s going to the one place Mikey can’t follow - Bing.

Mikey watched him pack his things, eyes glued to the slow and careful movements. Nate stopped when it became overbearing, letting the t-shirt in his hand fall to the floor. He turned and walked over to the bed and straddled his legs, lifting Mikey’s chin with two fingers so he’d look at him.

He looks like he’s only just barely managing to keep it together.

“One day,” Nathan whispered, face only about an inch from his friend’s, “you’re going to ask me to marry you.” He leaned in and kissed Mikey until he couldn’t manage one more second without turning blue. “And I’m going to say yes."

“You have me.”

“You have me too.”

It wasn’t a promise of forever, but it was something damn near it. He knew this. He also didn’t care.

It was a dangerous promise to make. He just thought he could keep this one - that Mikey could keep this one. After all, he’d been the one to say it first.

The next morning, Mikey let him go with a soft kiss and a whispered, “kick ass. I love you.”

Before the third game of the season, Mikey was released back to Mississauga. Nate called him as soon as he found out - through Taylor, not Mikey. He tried not to be hurt by that.

It went to voicemail, despite only ringing a couple times.

“Hey, Mike. I’m so proud of you. Call me.”

He didn’t return the call, and Nate wondered what the problem was - beyond the obvious, of course.

_ Are you okay? _ He texted him one day in late October after hearing nothing.

He couldn’t tell if that was weird or not, that they’d gone a few weeks without speaking. He’d tried, of course, making the calls after either of them had a game, but Mikey never answered. The sensible part of him - the part he seems to always struggle listening to when it comes to Clouder - yelled at him that this was far from normal. Talking less? Yeah, sure, both of them are busy and on different schedules for the first time in a while. Nothing at all? A red flag.

The other part of him said they’d never been this apart for this long. How was he supposed to know how they’d handle it?

_ fine  _ came the reply, two days later.

_ I miss you _

_ yeah _

They didn’t  _ never _ talk after that, but it was admittedly pretty rare. Like, a simple exchange of pleasantries once every other week rare. He stopped trying to call Mikey after games, and he never got one either. Nate kept up with the Steelheads through Tip. He didn’t know if Mikey kept up with Bing at all.

On the Mikey side of things, the only way he found out anything was through Ryan. He’s got a girl now, or something. Ryan sounded sorry when he told him, but he didn’t know why. It’s not like they told him anything. It’s not like there was anything to tell.

Still, it hurt. It  _ really _ fucking hurt.

Both of their teams were having great seasons, but it didn’t feel as good as he’d hope. Playing without Mikey felt wrong, but being without him for so long felt even worse.

Their first game in Toronto against the Marlies was in February. He hadn’t seen Mikey in months, had hardly heard from him in months.

To skate to the bench before the game to see Mikey sat right behind it, wearing Nate’s Steelheads jersey, made him nearly skate right into the boards. Mikey offered him a blinding grin, and he returned it in kind. His chest felt at ease being near him again, and that game he felt lighter on his feet, lighter in general, really.

He scored two goals. Came heartbreakingly close to a hat trick, but missed the practically empty net. Story of his life.

“Hey,” he said the moment he saw Mikey after the game.

“Hi,” Mikey responded, but it was more of a sigh.

Before he could say anything else, Mikey’s lips were on his, and his back was against the wall, and it felt like they picked up where they left off. A dimly lit hallway in Toronto became the hotel room in New Jersey. Quiet breaths became promises Nate now doubted could be kept.

“Come home,” Mikey said, pressing their foreheads together. “Ryan misses you.”

“Ryan?”

“Yeah.”

“I have to be back by curfew.”

“Okay, we’ll get you back on time, Cinderella.”

Nate wondered whether or not Mikey was supposed to be the prince in this story.

Ryan offered him a hug when they entered the McLeod house, and being surrounded in that familiarity felt good. It made him feel like no time had passed, that everything was still normal. Still good. This really was home to him.

Home was also the way Mikey clutched onto him like he was a lifeline when his bedroom door was shut. Home was also the way Mikey whispered a thousand I love you’s into his neck when they curled up on his bed. Home was Mikey, he knew that, hadn’t forgotten it, but this still felt like a reminder. Like a neon sign reading ‘look what you used to have, except for how you didn’t’ was hung on the wall across from the bed instead of a picture of them after they won the conference finals.

“Ry said you have a girlfriend or something,” he said, because he didn’t want to ruin the moment - ruin finally having Mikey again, but he couldn’t just. He couldn’t just accept this as okay.

“Or something.”

“Oh.”

“You’re a better kisser, though,” he teased, his smile going lopsided before he leaned uncomfortably to kiss him.

Nate felt like he might throw up.

“I miss you,” he said before he left.

“I miss you too,” Mikey said, running a hand through his hair. Nate leaned into the touch, wishing he could carry it with him when he left. Wishing he could carry Mikey’s words with him when he left - wishing he’d act like they were true.

Making it well into March without hearing much of anything wasn’t even a surprise to him anymore, but it still left Nate feeling hollow. It’s one thing to know they weren’t anything, but being treated like it hurt more. He wanted to go back to when things were okay.

He couldn’t even remember when that was.

_ One day _ bounced around in his head and he called Ryan, his fingers dialling the number before his brain could catch up.

“Nater?” he answered, clearly half asleep. Nate felt bad for waking him up. “What’s up?”

“Is Mikey with you?”

“No,” he replied slowly, as though that was a stupid question. It probably was. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t fucking know what he’s doing.”

“Right now? Pretty sure he’s sleeping. It’s like three in the morning, dude.”

“No, I-” Nate sighed. “With me.”

“I just woke up.  _ What _ are you talking about?”

Nate started talking and he couldn’t stop. Ryan was silent the whole time while he gave him the basics - sometimes maybe a little too much - on what had been going on. It wasn’t his place to say anything about it, he knew that. It felt like he was breaking a promise by letting someone know what they’ve done - Mikey’s  _ brother _ , nonetheless, but he couldn’t contain it anymore. Couldn’t let himself keep dealing with everything on his own.

Ryan sounded a lot more awake after that. “I’m going to fucking kill him, what the  _ fuck _ .”

“No, don’t, he. He can’t know I told you. Forget I said anything, okay?”

“Nater, no. You can’t just-”

“Sorry, Ry. G’night.”

He buried his face in his pillow and let all the air out of his lungs. He’s an idiot.

But still, he loves Michael McLeod.

Both teams make it to the playoffs. Both teams lose in the second round.

Nate packed his things, heart heavy, and went home. Not Kitchener -  _ home _ . Briefly he wondered if he still had reason to call it that.

He stepped foot in the living room only to see Mikey cuddled up on the couch with that girl - Nate can’t remember her name. She’s pretty, though.

Of course she is. This is Mikey.

“Nater!” Mikey lit up when he saw him. “I didn’t know you were coming back already.”

“Yeah. Is Ryan home?”

The confusion was plain on Mikey’s face. Nate wondered if the hurt was plain on his own.

“No. He’ll be back in like ten, though.”

“Okay.”

He sat on the floor in Ryan’s room and stared at the wall. By the time he’d walked in a half hour later, Nate had decided the soft yellow paint was about four shades lighter than the wallpaper in that hotel room in Buffalo.

“Hey,” Ryan said, setting his shoes on the floor inside the door and sitting down next to him, their shoulders pressed together. “You okay?”

“You’re my favourite McLeod now.”

“I’m sure Matt is gonna be heartbroken.”

“Yeah.”

“Liv left, by the way. She was on her way out when I came in.”

“Cool.”

“Nate-”

“I should have gone home,” he sighed, and Ryan leaned against him. That was the first time he’d called anywhere without Mikey home in years. It was the first time anywhere without him felt more like home.

Ryan leaned against him. “Do you want me to distract him if you’re leaving? You don’t have to talk to him.

Nate laughed, and it tasted bitter on his tongue. “No, but thanks.”

Ryan patted his back sympathetically, and Nate stood up to go. The moment he walked out of Ryan’s room, Mikey grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him across the hallway into his room, shutting the door behind him.

“Hi,” Mikey smiled softly at him, and Nate’s heart skipped a beat. 

He nearly choked on the “I was leaving” he knew he needed to say.

“Oh.” He looked disappointed. “Somewhere to be?”

“Home.”

“You are home.”

“Am I?”

“Always.”

Mikey pressed his lips to Nate’s jaw and Nate leaned away. “Is it?”

“What’s wrong?”

“You can’t fucking kiss me when your girlfriend just left, Mike.”

“She’s not exactly a girlfriend, really.”

“Like I’m not your boyfriend?”

Mikey looked confused. Nate wondered how someone could be so genuinely obtuse. “You’re not my boyfriend, Nate. You’re my best friend.”

“You can’t- you can’t possibly be serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You know, Ryan is one of my best friends. I’ve never kissed him once. Never even thought about it.”

“God, I hope not.”

“For someone who scores a lot you’re really fucking good at missing points.”

He shoved Mikey away and turned to leave the bedroom, taking half a step back when he saw Ryan was stood right outside the door. He looked as pissed as Nate felt.

“So fuck it, I guess,” Nate said, putting his hand on the back of Ryan’s neck, pulling him up slightly. The kiss didn’t last long, not that it was supposed to, and the knots in his stomach were screaming  _ wrong, wrong, wrong  _ as they tied themselves tighter and tighter.

“What the fuck?” Mikey said, or, rather, demanded in disbelief. Nate didn’t look at him as he left, didn’t turn when he shouted his name.

The last thing he heard before he shut the front door behind him was Ryan’s “don’t you  _ dare _ .”

No one was home when he got there, and the house felt as empty as he did.

It took forty minutes of staring at his blank television screen in his bedroom before he realised he needed to talk to Ryan.

_ Sorry about that _

The reply came immediately -  _ it’s fine _ \- immediately followed by  _ just warn me next time lol _

_ I’ll give you 3-5 business days notice and no cancellation fees _

_ thanks _

He felt a little lighter after that, but it didn’t last long when Ryan added  _ Mikey is an idiot _

_ Thanks I know _

_ the offer to kick his ass stands _

_ I’ll take a rain check _

His bedroom door opened slowly, and he expected to look up and see his mother, even though she usually didn’t get home until later. The “hey mom” died on his tongue when he saw Mikey awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other in the doorway.

“No one let you in.”

“No one has had to let me in in years, Nate.”

“I don’t  _ want  _ you here,” he said, and the words felt like a double sided blade, cutting him just as much as they were meant to cut his best-friend-not-boyfriend.

“I owe you an apology.”

“You owe me more than that.”

“I know. God. I  _ know _ that. But I can’t do anything about that if you kick me out.”

Nate sighed and moved over to one side of the bed, an invitation to come sit that Mikey took with a sigh of relief.

“I love you,” he said, and Nate laughed.

“What?” Mikey asked a little defensively.

“You say that a lot.”

“So do you.”

“But  _ I _ actually love you.”

“I  _ do _ lo- wait. You do? Not  _ did _ ?”

Nate shook his head and sighed. “If you saying we weren’t dating was enough to stop me from being in love with you, the last few years would have been a lot easier on me.”

“In?”

“What?”

“You said  _ in _ love. Not just, like, love.”

“I feel like that should have been clear when I told you I’d marry you.”

“I’m,” he took a deep breath, and wouldn’t look at Nate. “I’m in love with you too.”

“I don’t really need you to lie to me, Mikey.”

“I’m not lying to you.”

“Eight months. For eight months you didn’t talk to me unless I was right in front of you. You got a “not quite” girlfriend. For three years you’ve told me that you love me, that you _ needed _ me. For  _ three years _ you’ve kissed me pretty much any fucking time I’ve seen you - which was almost daily, if not daily. Because I was always,  _ always _ with you. We have been dating for years, but I’ve never been your boyfriend.”

Mikey finally looked at him, and his expression was a complicated mix of emotions that Nate wished he could get a better read on. Regret seemed a big enough portion that he could decide on that much, at the very least.

“I didn’t talk to you because I was scared.”

“I hope you’re hearing yourself, because you sound like an idiot.”

“You’re my whole world, Nater. That’s why coming back here hurt so bad - not the hockey, not the fact that I didn’t make the team. You moved on and I stayed behind without you. That scared the shit out of me.”

“You’re wrong. I never moved on.  _ You _ did.”

“I tried to,” he said, and Nate flinched like he’d been punched in the gut. It felt like he was. “But I couldn’t. I can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you, once,” Mikey tentatively grabbed Nate’s hand, and he let him. “I can’t find anyone like you. It just isn’t possible.”

Nate remembered that.

“You also called me yours,” he said, staring down at their hands.

“I wanted you to be. I want you to be.”

_ Past, present. _

“How am I supposed to expect that to last?”

“I  _ told _ you I wanted to marry you. I told you I meant it. I do.”

_ Future. _

They’ve never talked about it. Nate never knew where they stood, where they were standing. Apparently they’d been on equal ground the whole time, a canyon of miscommunication - or lack of communication at all, separating them.

Mikey hurt him, a lot, for a long period of time. He wouldn’t forget that, but he could forgive it, little by little, knowing what he does now. As long as he’s given the tools to.

Finally, they were beginning to build the bridge over the canyon, back to equal ground where they can finally be together. A bridge so they don’t have to feel so far apart.

Finally, Nate had a good idea of where they will stand.

“I told you I’d say yes. I meant it.” He finally looked back up at Mikey, a small, hesitant smile forming on his face. “I mean it.”

“God,” Mikey said, deflating with relief. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too,” Nate said, and for the first time in forever, when he kissed Mikey he didn’t need to feel wrong for doing it.

It was nice until Mikey suddenly pushed him away and wiped frantically at his mouth. The action hurt Nate more than words could even begin to describe.

“Mikey? I-”

“You just kissed my brother like, two hours ago. What the fuck. I need to borrow your toothbrush.”

Nate nearly burst with laughter, interrupting Mikey’s protest that it wasn’t  _ funny _ by grabbing his face and pressing little kisses all over it until he started laughing too.

“You have me,” he said after Nate had stopped and they’d just been staring at each other for a couple moments, “forever, if you want.”

“I can’t promise you forever,” Nate shook his head. “But I’ll love you for as long as you’ll let me.”

“Deal.”

Nate smiled fondly at him, and Mikey returned it.

“But for real, I need your toothbrush.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> catch me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/alcoholnregret) and [tumblr](http://www.sidnate.tumblr.com)


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